


“In Plushies We Trust”

by Betz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Masturbation, Plushies, Romance, Sexual Content, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 03:36:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5651092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Betz/pseuds/Betz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Due to a miscast curse, Severus Snape is turned into a doll-sized plushie version of himself.  What happens when Hermione discovers the little Snape doll and takes it home with her?  And what does Severus learn about Hermione in the process? This fic is complete.</p>
<p>Originally written in 2006.</p>
            </blockquote>





	“In Plushies We Trust”

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all associated concepts belong to JK Rowling and various legal entities with a financial stake in this franchise. No monies are being made from this, no copyright infringement intended.

~o0o~o0O0o~o0o~  
Chapter One: The Curse  
~o0o~o0O0o~o0o~

Rushing along the narrow passage, Severus knew he should have been paying more attention to his surroundings. Knockturn Alley was not the sort of place he wanted to be late at night, much less hurrying through the winding passageways to get to a particular shop before it closed. A war hero with an Order of Merlin, First Class, was not exactly something to flaunt about these parts on a dark and blustery night where wind and shadows could easily mask a witch or wizard with a little revenge on their mind.

 

If it weren't for the fact that most parts of a Chimera were classified as Dark Arts ingredients, Severus could have gone to his usual apothecary in Hogsmeade to get the fresh Chimera bile instead of making his way to the farthest end of Knockturn Alley to a shady, yet reliable source for such a potion ingredient. The only reason he was out and about at this hour was that he got an urgent Floo call from Poppy informing him of Minerva's worsening condition. Severus had an ancient tome that contained a potion that would probably help reverse Minerva's deterioration, but some of the ingredients were rather hard to come by, especially the fresh Chimera bile.

 

It was when he finally spied the dimly lit shop, as he came around a curve in the alley, that the curse hit him. There was an unbearable sensation on his back, like his skin being seared away with white-hot irons, which spread to his limbs. When he came to, Severus discovered that he was flat on his back, completely immobilized. His vision was affected too, as everything looked larger than normal. It was only then when two figures, who looked larger than any giant he had ever come across, entered his field of vision.

 

“He was supposed to be turned into a charred skeleton, not a damn doll!” the larger of two cloaked figures exclaimed irritably.

 

“You said you knew how to cast the curse!”

 

“I said that I practiced it on some stray dogs and cats, and it worked then!”

 

“Well it hasn’t now!”

 

Severus was able to deduce from their conversation that he was supposed to be dead right now instead of looking up blankly at the night sky. From the voices, he could tell that the one who cast the spell was young Crabbe. He was not able to identify who his attacker's companion was.

 

_Leave it to Crabbe to do a curse incorrectly. I should be thanking him for his incompetence, I suppose._

 

There was a brief moment in which Severus panicked. The wizards could just end the spell, turn him back into his old self, and before Severus could grab his wand, cast the Charring Curse correctly. Before the two Dark wizards could decide upon a new course of action, there was a commotion a few doors away as a group of drunken wizards suddenly spilled out onto the dingy thoroughfare.

 

“Let's go,” Crabbe hissed urgently.

 

Severus wanted to yell, but was afraid that his attackers might hear him or draw the attention of the intoxicated rabble that was weaving its way towards them, on route to the next tavern.

 

Left there lying in the dark, he began to panic when the group of pub crawlers approached, unaware that there was a transfigured wizard lying in the middle of the street grime. Severus could feel the cold from the cobblestones under his head and through his clothes and he wondered if he would also feel pain if he was trod upon. Luck in the form of a strong gust of wind picked him up and tumbled him along Knockturn Alley. By the time the wind finished carrying him, he was deposited in a little niche next to Gringotts, by the stairs. He was sore from being tossed about by the wind.

 

Severus didn't think it would do much good, but he thought he would give it a try. _HELP!_ Now he was certain he was really in trouble; he couldn't make a sound.

 

While lying amid the detritus and litter in the little corner by the stairs, Severus tried to reflect on the good points of his situation. _I could be a dead blackened skeleton lying amid the darkest corner of Knockturn Alley; they could have taken me with them and then eviscerated the stuffing out of me; it could be raining, or I could be stuck in the mouth of a dog using me as a chew toy. Even so, I **am** immobilized; I have no idea if this curse is permanent, and let's just hope Poppy can keep Minerva out of pain and stabilized until I can be restored to my former self._

 

He hoped he wouldn't be lying on the street all night long. Severus may have been transformed into a plushie version of himself, but it was still uncomfortable to be placed so haphazardly on the cold, hard ground.

~o0o~

_Ten-thirty. I should have gone home hours ago._

 

Hermione rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hands, deciding that if she couldn't break the curse on the little puzzle box sitting in front of her by now, she probably wasn't going to do it tonight.

 

_A good night's sleep will give some fresh perspective in the morning._

 

After gathering her cloak and bidding a good night to the Goblin night watchman who regarded her with a suspicious eye, even after working at the wizarding bank for the past five years, Hermione exited through the front doors and down the grand steps. Upon reaching the cobblestone street, she stopped and gave a good stretch, twisting her back and neck in the process. It was while she was in the middle of her stretch she spotted it. In the dark night, the little white face and hands stood out against the black street.

 

“Hello?” Hermione said curiously.

 

She bent down and smiled. “Some poor little girl is going to wonder where her dolly is,” she cooed. Picking up the doll with yarn hair, she brushed bits of leaves and dirt that clung to its felt robes.

 

Hermione looked up and down the street hoping to spy someone who was searching for the doll; a mother or father sent out late at night by the pleas of their daughter begging them to find their lost toy. It was late, and it seemed that whoever lost their doll did not seem to notice it gone, as it would have been summoned by now if it was truly missed.

 

“Well now,” Hermione announced, holding up the doll for further scrutiny, “it seems you need a home. I have a little girl in mind who would just be smitten with you. I think Lily Potter would just love to have you over for one of her tea parties and stay.”

 

_NOOOOOOOoooooooo!_ Severus screamed, trying to flail his arms about, but to no avail. He just lay in Hermione's hand, his limbs akimbo and the same unmoving, stoic look on his stitched face.

 

The witch smiled and tucked the doll into a pocket on the inside of her robes before walking home.

~o0o~

Opening the door to her flat, Hermione called out, “I'm home!”

 

The orange lump sprawled out in front of the fire lifted its head and gazed sternly at its mistress.

 

“I know, Crooksie,” Hermione sighed, feeling as if that single look was a thorough scolding from her feline companion. “Work less, come home earlier, eat better, rest more, find some nice wizard to spend the rest of my life with. Did I leave anything out?”

 

Crookshanks gave a small meow before lying back down to nap by the fire.

 

“Of course, how could I forget? Feed you more and have a couple of children while I'm at it.”

 

Hermione pulled her cloak off and threw it over the arm of the sofa before going to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine to drink by the fire and unwind from another long day at work.

 

Severus, still nestled in an interior pocket of Hermione's cloak, listened to the exchange wondering who the hell “Crooksie” was, unable to hear the half-Kneazle, as sounds were muted by the wool.

 

Returning to the sofa, Hermione sat down with a glass of Merlot in her hand. When she noticed an uncomfortable lump digging into her back, she finally remembered the little doll she had placed in her pocket. Reaching inside the garment, she pulled it out and studied the plushie closely.

 

_Oh thank God. You were crushing me, you inconsiderate bint!_

 

It was a simple felt doll with a stitched outline of a nose and mouth with shiny, solid black button eyes. Its outfit entailed dark robes with a tiny row of charcoal buttons down the front and black trousers underneath. There was a little wand sewn onto his hand.

 

“You're not a girl doll,” Hermione observed.

 

_How kind of you to notice,_ Severus thought sourly.

 

“You're a boy doll. Your hair is a bit long...” She stared at the button eyes and swore she could feel like they were staring right back at her. Noting the pale choice of felt that was almost stark white, the lank yarn hair and clothes, she began, “You know, if I didn't know better, I swear you look like a doll of Snape.”

 

_Yes, it's me! The real me! Now end this bloody curse!_

 

“If Harry or Ron got a hold of you, you'd be turned into a Voodoo doll,” she chuckled to herself.

 

As Severus contemplated that scenario, he decided he’d much rather be stuck in the eternal tea party from hell with a little girl than punctured with various pins and needles from Potter or Weasley; he was keenly aware that he still could feel pain in his transformed state.

 

“But I have different plans for you. I think Harry's little girl, Lily, would just love you to pieces.” Images of Harry having a snit over his precious little princess loving a doll that looked like the “greasy git” came to mind. Somehow the image of little Lily playing the part of Pocahontas and the doll playing the part of John Smith came to mind, Lily throwing herself over the doll to stop her father from beheading it, which made Hermione chuckle throatily to herself.

 

Still studying the doll, she took a sip of wine and swirled it around her mouth before swallowing. “Too bad you're not an anatomically correct doll. At least I could finally find out if that nose of yours really holds true to the old myth about a man's endowments.”

 

_WHAT?!_ he spluttered indignantly.

 

Continuing on, not knowing that Severus would have given her a verbal lashing for being so vulgar in respect to a very private matter, Hermione peeked up under the hem of his little felt robes. “Pity.”

 

Severus wondered if he really was dead and was just taking a lazy tour through the first level of hell, and it was only going to get worse with each level he descended. Had he had use of his arms, he would have swatted her hands away.

 

“At least I could settle that bet Lavender and I had going since our sixth year.”

 

Now Severus knew he had just descended another level with the knowledge that some of his students over the years were making bets on the size of his manhood.

 

“Too bad you're not the real thing. I could use a man in my bed tonight, even if it was the real Snape. It has been too long,” Hermione sighed wistfully.

 

Severus was sure he had misheard. Miss Granger did not just say she wished he – in his fully adult, non-plushie form – would spend the night with her in her bed.

 

“I doubt he would ever be interested in me. Probably think I'm some silly young girl. Twenty-five is not that young; old enough to know that I'm tired of wizards with the intelligence of a grapefruit with a personality to match.”

 

He wasn't sure what to think, as he usually avoided thinking about Miss Granger due to the strong mental associations with Potter. His most distinct memory of her was of an annoying student. There was the briefest of moments when they crossed paths at Ministry functions over the past few years, but he never cast her a second glance, nor did it seem, had she. However, it could be that he was mistaken on the latter.

 

Hermione placed the little doll on the sofa facing her, so she could still observe him while she sipped her wine. Picking up a book off the floor that she was in the middle of, she settled in and picked up where she left off the night before.

 

The fire crackled, warming the room while the wind howled and rattled the panes of glass. All the while, Severus sat there with nothing to do but watch Hermione read her book and the logs burn merrily in the grate.

 

_Well, this isn't too bad,_ Severus conceded eventually. _A glass of wine, a good book by the fire, and quiet companionship; too bad I couldn't have some Merlot and a novel myself._

 

Finally, the moth-eaten furry lump stirred and rose up from the hearth, stretching and yawning before padding off to the bedroom.

 

“You're right Crooks. It's time for bed,” Hermione replied to her familiar's nonverbal remarks.

 

_Ah, her cat,_ Severus noted, realising who Hermione had addressed when she first arrived home.

 

Marking her place in her book, Hermione rose from the sofa and began to head off to the bedroom. For a reason she didn’t know, she stopped. She could have left the doll in the sitting room all night, but something pulled Hermione back to the sofa and she picked it up, bringing it with her to the bedroom.

 

“Well, if I can't have the real thing, I might as well have you in my bed,” she said to the doll with a playful smile.

 

If Severus been able to smirk, he would have.

 

Hermione walked into the bedroom and placed Severus face down on the bed.

 

_Damn._ He really was now hoping to see Hermione undress before him, maybe put on one of those satin and lacy teddies, or silky lingerie bedroom ensembles that most men fantasized women slept in.

 

By the time Hermione emerged from the bathroom, she was already dressed in her very worn and ratty looking Puddlemere United Quidditch team shirt that Harry got her some years ago. It was three sizes too big and hung down to the middle of her thighs. The colours were faded and the team logo half-peeled away from many washings, but it was soft, familiar and very comfortable.

 

It was the least seductive piece of sleepwear that Severus had ever set eyes on, once Hermione flipped him over onto his back before settling herself between the sheets, but a brief glimpse of her thighs immediately quelled his silent complaints about her sleeping attire.

 

With the lights out, the witch snuggled down into her bed, clutching the Transfigured felt version of Snape to her bosom like the little rabbit toy she used to sleep with as a child. She knew it was silly for a grown witch to be sleeping with a doll in bed, but she was willing to relive this little bit of her childhood.

 

Severus, pressed rather nicely to her breasts, decided that there were far worse situations be in at the moment and drifted off to sleep. Could he have smiled, he would have, especially imagining the look of Hermione's face if she ever knew that she slept with her former professor's face pressed so firmly to her chest. If he ever got returned to his normal state, he would have to tease her at the next Ministry function about being careful what she wished for.

~o0o~o0O0o~o0o~  
Chapter Two: The Confession   
~o0o~o0O0o~o0o~

Blue. Severus woke to see nothing but blue. There was a rustling of the covers and the colour that covered his field of vision shifted to include patches of dark and light. Surmising that he had migrated under the covers during the night, he hoped that he would not suffocate while stuck in this form. Was it possible to suffocate when he had fluff and filling instead of lungs? He didn't want to know.

 

_OMPH!_

 

Well, he certainly could have the wind knocked out of him, as he discovered when Hermione rolled over and threw an arm on top of him.

 

_Get your arm off of me. It's like being sat on by a giant,_ he groaned irritably.

 

Much to his relief, Hermione moved her arm, yet he was suddenly grabbed by a half-sleeping witch who clutched him to her breast once again.

 

Now with his head above the covers, he got a very up close view of her breasts in the morning light. The threadbare nightshirt did little to hide the outline of her nipples; chilled by the morning air. Had Severus had a working mouth, he would have latched on and suckled one of those perky peaks through the thin fabric.

 

Hermione stirred once more. Her eyes fluttered open and she stretched, knocking Severus from his very comfortable position. After rolling over onto her side, she adjusted the doll so that it was facing her.

 

“Good morning,” she greeted the doll sleepily, noting the resemblance to Severus Snape was even more remarkable in good light.

 

Hermione didn't know why, but the thought of waking up next to Snape seemed like a very erotic and forbidden thought. Just the sheer taboo aspect of sleeping with an older wizard who was once her teacher made the idea seem more alluring.

 

Playing out the fantasy, which seemed to have settled into her mind, she said, “Care to join me for some breakfast, Severus? Or will you just Floo away once you get dressed, never to call me again?”

 

Severus lay there, a little stunned that Hermione had called him by his proper name, wondering if she had figured out it really was him. Regarding her, with her hair mussed up and eyes still puffy from sleep, he thought that it might not be such a bad prospect waking up to a witch like this most mornings. Though he never stayed the night in another's bed, preferring to return to his own before dawn, it didn't seem too bad spending the night with Hermione. Even breakfast seemed like a good idea, though he was experiencing no hunger.

 

_I would like to be returned into my regular form. Then we can discuss breakfast._

 

Hermione sighed and rolled over onto her back to stare blankly at the ceiling. “I'm asking a doll to stay for breakfast. It has been far too long. I really need to get laid.” Rolling her head to the side to look at the doll, she added, “Too bad you're not up for the job.”

 

_If she is this desperate for a good shag, then maybe, after I'm returned to my original form, I can just accidentally come across her some place and chat her up. A few drinks, a little conversation, and we could both get something we both need,_ Severus thought, reflecting that it had been quite a long time since he had the intimate company of another.

 

“Friday, Hermione. Get your arse out of bed,” she ordered herself.

 

As Hermione padded to the bathroom to shower, Severus was left lying on his back in her bed with nothing but the ceiling and walls to stare at.

 

He listened as Hermione sang loudly and very off-key in the shower. _Great, an aspiring pop singer._

 

Since her last trip to her parents' house, where she discovered her father's collection of vinyl albums, Hermione's mind was stuck on disco tunes. They were bouncy songs with silly lyrics that were pretty catchy.

 

_“Play that funky music white boy!_  
Play that funky music riiiiiight!  
Play that funky music white boy!  
Lay down that boogie and play that funky music till you diiiiiiiiieeeeee!  
Till you diiiiiiiieeeeeeee!  
Yeah! YEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!” 

 

Hermione screeched the last line in a manner befitting a banshee. Severus wished that he could have been cursed deaf instead of mute. He was familiar with that Muggle song, and knew that Hermione's version was worthy of being recorded in the annals as the “Worst Disco Song Rendition Ever”.

 

The door to the bathroom opened and Severus' host emerged in a cloud of steam. He was thankful that he had peripheral vision, as Hermione was wearing a towel around her waist with nothing else. Her breasts swung freely as she walked over to her wardrobe.

 

Severus knew he had no anatomy to respond to the sight of Hermione walking around half-naked, but it didn't stop the sensation of blood pooling in his groin while watching her. When she dropped the towel and bent over to put her knickers on, Severus sighed in appreciation of the view.

 

In his not-so-humble opinion, she really had a very nice body. Some wizards might comment that she could stand to lose a few pounds, but he preferred his witches on the voluptuous side, rather than looking underfed. She wasn't fat, but she certainly had a soft and curved figure, not flat, bony, or angular, like some he had shagged over the years.

 

Watching her put on her sensible and plain cotton knickers, Severus could only imagine how much better she would look in something with a little colour, a little lace, and a little silk. He frowned as she put her simple cotton bra on, not knowing if he would ever get a chance to view her breasts again. There were neither large, nor exceptionally astounding, but they did look like they would fit perfectly in his hand.

 

Hermione slipped on her skirt and blouse. Turning around to view her backside in the mirror over her shoulder, she asked aloud, “Does this skirt make my bottom look big?”

 

There were benefits to being mute and thus unable to answer. Severus, had he had use of his voice, would have automatically answered in the affirmative, not being one to lie unless absolutely necessary. It was an unflattering skirt in a ghastly shade of brown.

 

_You look better undressed._

 

“I need to go on a diet,” she bemoaned, disgusted with the way her body looked.

 

Severus could not understand why witches felt they must look starved in order to look beautiful.

 

Once dressed, Hermione headed out to the kitchen for some breakfast. Severus wondered if she would come back in the bedroom and sit him upright before going to work, realising he would be stuck there lying on his back until that evening after hearing Hermione give a quick farewell to her familiar as she left.

 

_Great._

 

With nothing to do, Severus began assessing the situation. He still had his wand, and now that Hermione was no longer around to distract him, and he was finally calmed down, he tried to figure out how to get himself out of this situation.

 

_Finite Incantatem!_

 

Severus didn't think it would work, but he gave it a shot, hoping it would return himself to his normal state.

 

Wondering if he could perform any spells, he began trying a variety of them non-verbally.

 

_Wingardium Leviosa!_

_Accio comb!_

_Lumos!_

_Orchideous!_

 

Nothing. Nada, zip, zilch. It seemed that he could not even cast the tiniest shower of sparks from his wand.

 

_If I ever get out of this, I'll be sure to make Crabbe's life a long, torturous hell before I kill him. A little Veritaserum and I'll find out who his cohort was and do the same to him as well._

 

Just when Severus thought that he might indeed be stuck as a doll for the rest of eternity, a large orange ball of fur leapt up onto the bed.

 

_**Oh bugger!** _

 

Crookshanks had finally decided to investigate this newest guest in his mistress' home. Being half-Kneazle, Crookshanks knew that this was no ordinary doll, but possessed the spirit of another human. He began to sniff the air experimentally near Severus, his large bottle brush tail twitching in a manner that made the Potions master very nervous.

 

_Shoo!_

 

Crookshanks seemed to flinch slightly as Severus mentally yelled at the feline.

 

_Go away!_

 

The beast reacted less this time and narrowed his eyes at the doll taking up residence on the bed. Not taking kindly to Severus' tone, Crookshanks began to hiss and growl.

 

_Nice kitty-cat,_ Severus said a little fearfully. He wondered if Miss Granger would come home and find blood on the bedspread or just little piles of red stuffing. Would he bleed fluff?

 

The feline pounced on Severus, and then immediately recoiled, having been shocked by a defensive charge that fended off the animal. Crookshanks shook his head, trying to get rid of the unpleasant sting in its mouth and decided he no longer was interested in something that could fight back.

 

Once the mangy creature was gone, Severus let go of his breath. It was a huge relief to know that in a dire situation, his magic would kick in and help protect him, which would be helpful if he fell from such a great height as the bed onto the hard wood floor below.

 

Safe with the knowledge he was not going to be mauled anytime soon, he resumed working on how to free himself. Severus knew he should have started thinking on this matter last night, but he was a bit distracted by the shock of the situation to think clearly. It was apparent now the only two ways he would be able to get out of this situation was to get Miss Granger to realise that it was him trapped in the body of a doll, or hope the effectiveness of the curse would wear off after a while and be returned to his natural self.

 

_In the meantime, what the hell am I to do?_

 

Remembering why he was venturing down Knockturn Alley alone in the first place, he hoped Minerva would be all right until he could get around to brewing the ancient restorative draught. Perhaps Poppy would contact another competent Potions master after not hearing back from him last night.

 

By lunchtime, Severus was bored out of his mind. He had mentally gone through the inventory in his ingredients cupboard, wondered how many students had blown themselves up this week in Slughorn's Potions class, listed off every potion he taught during his sixteen years of teaching at Hogwarts, and every potion he brewed since becoming self-employed after the war. It was when he was on his third round of “Ninety-nine Bottles of Poison on the Wall” that he heard the jingle of keys in the lock.

~o0o~

No matter how hard Hermione stared at the puzzle box, she could not keep her mind on her work. So instead of having to avoid the suspicious glare of the Head Goblin on duty, who seemed to have an innate sense that Hermione's mind was elsewhere, she made the excuse of needing to do more research on the cursed puzzle box before attempting to open it again. Hiding out in the office reference library with her nose stuck in a book, Hermione let her mind wander back to thoughts of Severus. Every so often, she made a point of turning the page, not really reading, but pretending to for the benefit of those who could be watching.

 

Ever since discovering that Snape-like doll last night, Hermione's mind began to fixate on the idea of her old Potions teacher. There was that brief time during her fifth and sixth year when she envisioned him as some sort of self-sacrificing, tragic warrior; the unsung hero who risked gathering information for the good guys at great personal risk to his life, too noble to decline even the most dangerous task, a courageous knight of the Order. But after Snape cast the Killing Curse on Albus, her opinion of him changed drastically. Then there was the part after the war when certain facts came to light exonerating Snape. It became known that Albus insisted that Snape kill him when the time came, but by then all her romantic notions of the misunderstood, mysterious, lionhearted fighter had dissipated. Now he was just a former teacher with a bad disposition.

 

Of the few times she did come across him after the war at the odd Ministry function, he was neither cross or abrasive with Hermione, nor was he gracious or cordial. They just had nothing more in common than both fighting for the same side during the war.

 

So why did her mind keep drifting back to the image of Snape? Maybe it was because she remembered what a brilliant wizard he was, inventing all those spells and improving upon Potions in that borrowed Advanced Potions book Harry had used.

 

As of late, Hermione had come to realise that a pretty face and oodles of charm were no longer enough to hold her interest. She and Ron had parted amicably, and Harry and Ginny kept setting her up on dates with a slew of “nice young wizards” who they thought were appropriate for her to see. Sometimes nice was boring, and not too bright either. And that didn't even approach the subject of sexual chemistry. Sometimes even the cutest wizard could be a lousy kisser. Hermione wasn't necessarily lowering her standards, but over time, she certainly slackened her requirements of who she would date. Severus Snape certainly fell within those parameters she had set for herself lately. He was under sixty, single, educated and straight. The fact he once was a Death Eater she chalked up to the fact he got sucked into the wizarding equivalent of cult, and wound up paying for his mistake for a very long time. He had never treated her less because she was Muggle-born, she figured with his Muggle father he was the last to talk about bloodlines.

 

Yes, Snape was not exactly the most handsome wizard, but Hermione no longer cared. And he did have a sour disposition, but she would gladly take that over some of the insipid company she suffered on some of her more forgettable dates. So far, it seemed that Snape would be the most interesting date she would have in years, if she ever saw him at another Ministry function. He didn't go to every one, but she had seen him at a few over the years.

 

_And what would you say if you saw him? Hello, Mr. Snape? Remember me? You called me an insufferable know-it-all once. Care to go out for dinner sometime then come back to my place for a shag?_

 

She snorted at the ineptness of herself in her own little fantasy. She couldn't even make a proper proposition to him in her mind. It was just as well. It was highly unlikely he would ever agree to go out with her anyway.

 

Realising the time, Hermione left to go home for lunch. She could have gone out with a few of the other non-Goblins from work, but the introspection of her pathetic date life made her seek the solitude of her flat.

 

Upon reaching home, she was thoroughly depressed. During her walk to her flat, she realised it had been four months, two weeks, and six days since her last date. Eleven months, one week and four days since she last had a good fuck. Any fuck.

 

Instead of going to the kitchen to make herself a sandwich, she slumped off to the bedroom and flopped onto the bed.

 

Positioning the Snape plushie to regard it, she asked, “Would you shag me if I asked you nicely?”

 

In the past twenty-four hours he had been offered sex twice by Miss Granger and spent the night snuggled against her breasts. He was getting more action as an anatomically abbreviated plaything than in his fully male form. Was it merely a sign of how meager his own sex life was during the past several years, or was it that he was non-threatening in this form, and thus was able to elicit the honest opinions from a witch? Whatever the case, it seemed Hermione was in need of some servicing as much as he was.

 

_Hell, yes._

 

“God, I'm pathetic.”

 

Severus wasn't sure if she was or not, and would reserve judgment for a later time, but so far, Hermione did not seem pathetic to him. She was a witch who had sexual needs, just like him.

 

“ _Accio_ chocolate!”

 

A box of Belgian chocolates sailed through the air and landed on the bed next to Hermione.

 

_You're not actually going to eat that for lunch?_

 

Hermione, feeling guilty, cast an apologetic glance at the doll. As if imagining Snape's response to seeing her eat a box of chocolates for lunch, she said, “I hardly ever do this. I'm just so depressed.”

 

_About what?_ He was bored and felt like conversation for once.

 

“I don't know,” Hermione went on, continuing to imagine Snape replying to her comments. “I mean, I have a good job, I have my health, friends, a nice flat, money in the vault. It's just that I wish I wasn't so lonely sometimes. It’s just, is it too much to ask to spend the evening with someone who has an I.Q. that isn't on par with a Dugbog?” Sighing, she rolled onto her back and popped another truffle into her mouth. “Maybe I should just go out to a bar someplace and pick up someone for just a simple shag. I would just like someone to spend evenings with me, reading by the fire, curling into bed at the end of the day together, having sex until we can't walk properly.” Turning her head to look at Severus, she asked, “How does that sound?”

 

_Like heaven._

 

It sounded exactly like how Severus spent his evenings already, except without the companionship and sex. Severus liked living alone, but with the idea of the addition of Hermione to his usual routine, it sounded like an ideal situation.

 

Glancing at the clock, Hermione noticed it was time to go back to work. She didn't want to go. She just wanted to curl up on the bed with her little Severus doll and take a nap.

 

“Thanks for listening,” Hermione said as she rose from the bed. “Sometimes it's nice to have someone to talk to at times.”

 

Severus was not sure what he would say if he could talk. He was never one that people came to for a sympathetic ear, and it was only for force of his situation that he ever would have listened to Hermione. It wasn't too bad. He supposed it would be nice to have someone in turn listen to his occasional grievances. But what concerned him most was that Hermione was going to leave again.

 

_Wait! Where are you going?_

 

Hermione did not answer. She left without a backwards glance at Severus.

 

_What did you expect, a kiss goodbye?_

 

Actually, that was exactly what he was hoping for. Severus was rather disgusted with himself becoming as soft as the stuffing that was taking the place of his internal organs at the moment. It was almost as if they were having a real conversation. He just thought a reply to her monologue, and she responded.

 

A thought came to Severus that made him wonder if he could actually converse with Hermione, but he would have to wait until she was asleep to test it out.

~o0o~o0O0o~o0o~  
Chapter Three: The Close Call  
~o0o~o0O0o~o0o~

Hermione had made herself a promise. Looking at the clock, she was on the verge of breaking it. Her _one_ New Year's resolution for 2004 was to not work past eight o'clock on a Friday night. So far she had held true to that promise for ten months, three weeks, and two days. It was a small resolution, but she figured this was one she could keep.

 

Looking at the puzzle box, she was tempted to throw it against a wall or down a flight of stairs as if that might solve it. Hermione loved a good puzzle, but this was getting frustrating. No amount of brute force could pry this box open and the labyrinth of metal inlay on wood told no secrets to the solution.

 

With resignation, Hermione conceded to defeat for the night and promised to do some research on puzzle boxes over the weekend. With a minute to spare, Hermione kept her New Year's resolution and left work.

~o0o~

Severus lay in the dark, wondering when Hermione would get home. It was getting late, very late. Assuming his sense of time had not been altered with his transformation, he figured it was getting close to ten o'clock.

 

_Where the hell is she? She better not have gone to a bar and picked up some random wizard for a casual shag,_ he hoped.

 

Visions of a drunk Hermione hanging on the arms of some smarmy wizard with a body odor problem entered his mind. They would kiss sloppily and then he would carry her off to the bed where he would throw her down... right on top of him, crushing Severus while the berk humped Hermione without bothering to take her clothes off. It was a repulsive scenario. If anyone was going to shag Hermione, it should be Severus, not some random git with too much cologne, a glamour charm to hide his bad complexion, and an over-inflated ego to compensate for something else that would not fully inflate.

 

Just as he was wondering if maybe Hermione had gone to the other wizard's place, the door opened.

 

“I swear! Never again! Thinks he can fool a witch!” Hermione fumed as she strode into her flat. There was the loud bang of the door slamming shut.

 

There was a flicker of light as candles lit upon Hermione's entrance into her bedroom. “I feel so disgusting, I need a shower!” She stormed off into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door.

 

The sound water running filled the silence in between huffs of indignation and pieces of clothing sailing out of the bathroom, levitated to fall into a dirty clothes hamper. Eventually Hermione emerged from the bathroom completely nude, gently toweling her hair off.

 

“Can you believe it?” Hermione asked, still incensed.

 

_I'll only tell you if I do or not it if you tell me what happened,_ Severus replied, somewhat distracted by the sight of Hermione naked, reclining on the bed, wet tendrils clinging to the tops of her breasts.

 

“So I go to The Listing Broom for a drink after work. And this wizard starts chatting me up.”

 

Severus was only half listening, most of his attention firmly fixated on the sight of Hermione splayed out on the bed for his viewing pleasure. At the mention of a bar, just as he imagined, and that she was approached by another wizard, his full attention snapped to what she was saying.

 

“I mean, he seemed like a nice bloke. Not too old, no wedding ring, could hold a conversation, fairly nice looking.”

 

_Yes, go on._ He hoped there would not be too much preamble before she got to the meat of the story.

 

“Eventually he leaned over and kissed me.”

 

Severus felt a surge of jealousy go through him. It was ridiculous, as he had no claim to Hermione, and it seemed she had not gone home with this stranger anyway.

 

“One thing led to another, and I thought, _'Why not? It's been a while.'_ ” 

 

Severus' stomach dropped, wondering if she did in fact go back to the wizard's flat, and had only just returned, fresh from an evening of casual sex, just as he feared.

 

“So, I invited him back here. He says he has to go to the loo before we go. When he comes back, I kiss him again and that's when I discovered it. The bastard was swigging Polyjuice Potion!”

 

Hermione rolled onto her stomach and screamed into the pillow, letting her frustration and revulsion over the course of events show. She pounded the pillow a couple of times for good measure before coming up for air.

 

Severus was thankful he was placed far enough away on the bed to not get caught in her fury.

 

Her face scrunched up in disgust at she continued recounting her escapades. “So I did a little Legilimency on him and discover it's _Mundungus Fletcher_.” She shuddered violently, her revulsion evident over the whole turn of events. “So I hexed him. I was so... _furious!_ I cursed him with a vagina in the middle of his forehead and told him he can go fuck himself.” She paused before adding, “Then I gave him a case of festering boils on his dick that will stay with him long after the Polyjuice Potion wears off.”

 

If Severus had use of his arms, he would have groaned and cupped himself in sympathy. He had to admit that he was always most impressed with Hermione when it came to the way she meted out her revenge. Even to this day, Marietta Boot (née Edgecombe) still wore a fringe to cover her forehead.

 

Groaning with despair, Hermione proclaimed, “I swear, I'm never going to pick up another wizard in a bar, ever again... _as long as I live._ To think that... NO! I don't even want to go there.”

 

Severus wanted to cast a _Scourgify_ charm in his mind to banish that thought. He did not want to imagine Dung with Hermione; that was just plain wrong.

 

Hermione groaned once more. “If only I wasn't so... so...”

 

_Horny?_

 

“Desperate,” she finished. “Why couldn't I have found you in that bar tonight instead of that slimy git?”

 

_Well, I'm here right now? What would you have done if you did come across me in that bar?_ Severus hoped Hermione could hear him in her thoughts and think they were her own. He really was curious as to how far he could have gotten with Hermione tonight, if he wasn't stuck here on her bed waiting for her to come home instead.

 

“I would have bought you a drink, for starters. Have it sent over and hoped you wouldn't insult me.”

 

_And I would have accepted the drink, then checked to see if it was poisoned._

 

“I wouldn't poison you.”

 

_If Dung could get his hands on some Polyjuice Potion, how could I be sure it was you buying me a drink?_

 

“So after you figure out it's not poisoned, I'd look at you across the room and see if you'd invite me over,” Hermione continued, not picking up on that comment.

 

_There's the problem, I wouldn't invite you over. I'd just sit there and enjoy the drink in solitude, but if you really wanted my company, I doubt that would stop you from inviting yourself over anyway._

 

Hermione frowned, as Severus' thoughts seemed to come from within her mind. “Then I'd have to come over to find out if you knew the drink was from me. I'd sit down and hopefully begin a conversation with you.”

 

At this point, Hermione rolled onto her back. One hand began to lazily stroke at the flesh along her ribs and stomach.

 

Severus absentmindedly asked, _And what would we talk about?_ while his gaze was fixed on the way her fingers trailed over her own flesh.

 

Closing her eyes, she let out a sigh. “Potions...” Hermione's hands skimmed along the underside of her breasts before languidly playing with her nipples. “Charms...” Smiling, she exhaled, “Anything to keep your attention.”

 

_You have my attention completely,_ Severus remarked, studying the way Hermione played with her own body.

 

“After a while, if you seemed interested, I'd lean over and stroke your hand with mine, maybe nuzzle against your neck. Gauge your interest, see if you wanted to kiss me.” She brought her hand to her face, running the tips of her fingers along her lips and cheeks.

 

_What are we doing now?_ He really wanted to know what she was fantasizing about right now, because whatever she was thinking, it looked rather erotic.

 

“You're stroking my face with your hands, gazing into my eyes.”

 

He groaned with frustration. Severus wished more than anything to be back in his human form stroking Hermione's face and other parts of her body right now.

 

_Would you suck my fingers?_

 

“Yes.”

 

_Then imagine it._

 

Hermione slipped one finger into her mouth and began to suck on it slowly, lolling her tongue around the digit.

 

_Now my hand is sliding down to stroke your breast,_ Severus added. To his amazement, Hermione's other hand slid back down and cupped her breast.

 

“Oh God, I can just imagine that voice of yours,” Hermione moaned around her finger.

 

In his mind, Severus tried to talk as sweetly and as seductively as he could. _Do you like it?_ he purred.

 

“Like velvet. I just want to wrap myself in it,” Hermione sighed with longing.

 

Now Severus wanted to speed the fantasy up to the part when he got her home and onto the bed. _So let's say we kiss, and we really like it. I want to go back to your flat. What happens now?_

 

“We come into the bedroom. You kiss me hungrily once more.” Hermione's hands moved along her shoulders and arms. “You undress me slowly, kissing me all over as you pull my clothes off.” Bending her knees, she raised her legs and ran her hands along their length, pretending it was Severus' hands on them.

 

_Once you're undressed, I kiss your breasts._

 

“Yes, and then lower, down my stomach,” she said, stroking the flesh around her hipbones, eliciting a shuddering sigh from herself.

 

Severus really wanted a better view point if he was going to watch this. He could have asked her to move him to the foot of the bed, but their connection was so strong he did not want to break it at the moment.

 

_And then I begin to slowly dip my tongue into your sweetness._

 

Hermione slipped a finger between her lips and began to stroke herself, making her groan appreciatively. “Yes,” she hissed, “ _yes_.”

 

_Spread your legs wider, so that I can bury my face between them._ Hermione complied with his suggestion. _While I'm feasting on you, one hand is stroking your clitoris, the other playing with your nipples._

 

She could almost imagine the fantasy completely in her mind; even his voice. It was just so intense that she did not question the moment, but reveled in it, glad to have some sort of sexual gratification since it had been a while since she had masturbated. The witch writhed on the bed, rocking her hips in time to the movements of her hand.

 

_Now I'm sliding a couple of fingers into you,_ Severus panted, feeling his arousal reach a new level. He couldn't ejaculate, but he still might be able to orgasm in this form, since he still experienced most other sensations.

 

Hermione slid two fingers into herself and sighed loudly, “Oh, Severus. Yes, more.” Her hand began moving back and forth more urgently while the other worked on her clitoris.

 

He was more than happy now just to watch watch, but he still wanted to participate; doing so in the only way he could at the moment. _I'm stroking you, licking you, making you beg for me._ All he wanted to do was fuck Hermione, as she looked incredible lying there next to him fingering herself into oblivion by his direction alone. _Oh... God, I want to fuck you._

 

Severus wondered if he ruined it by saying the wrong thing, as Hermione stopped, rolled over to the other side of the bed, and opened a beside table drawer. She rummaged around for a few seconds then laid back down on the bed holding a bottle of lube in one hand and a dildo in the other.

 

_Holy shit._

 

Popping the top on the bottle of lube quickly, she spread some along the length of the dildo before leaning back on the bed, positioning it at her entrance. Hermione stopped for a moment, getting back into the right mental frame of mind to continue the fantasy, and was having difficulty imagining Severus in bed, undressed and hovering above her between her thighs.

 

He finally remembered himself and said, _I'm between your legs, stroking your thighs, and ready to enter you. Beg, beg me sweetly as I tease you with the promise of sliding into you._

 

Hermione began to probe the head of the dildo around her opening. She whimpered, “Oh God, Severus, please. Please just fuck me. I need you so badly.”

 

_I'm going to slide into you now._

 

Hermione gasped and cried out as she pushed the toy into herself. “You feel so good.”

 

Severus could only imagine Hermione’s reaction had it really been him. Her dildo was a bit on the small side, and if something that size felt good, he was sure it would feel utterly fantastic when he finally entered her.

 

_You look amazing,_ Severus remarked with awe.

 

Hermione was writhing around on the bed, pushing a dildo in and out of her while one hand played with her breast, tweaking and pinching her nipples. She moaned without restraint.

 

_Faster, I'm fucking you faster._

 

“Oh yes,” she groaned, her voice rising in pitch as she began to screw up her face, concentrating the the orgasm she felt building inside of her. “Faster.”

 

_I'm slamming my thighs against you, driving myself into you._

 

“Yes, Severus. More, more,” she began to wail. Hermione's neck and back arched and she drove her hips into her hand, impaling herself with increasing urgency.

 

Severus swore he could feel his own climax was almost imminent. _Yes, hold on, that's it. Keep going,_ he moaned, briefly wondering if he would actually orgasm without a cock.

 

Hermione let a scream tear loose. Her head thrashed form side to side and her hips rocked back and forth quickly, seeking to milk the last of her pleasure from the experience. Severus felt his own orgasm tear through his small body. Though there was no way for him to ejaculate, he did feel a tingling burn sweep through his body that momentarily paralyzed his mind.

 

Both panting, they smiled lazily at one another. Severus' felt face never changed, but he did try to smile anyway.

 

Hermione was amazed just how fulfilling the fantasy was. Normally she never bothered to fantasize while she masturbated, but playing with herself for the sole purpose of quickly climaxing was getting rather boring. This almost felt as if she had Snape in the room with her. Looking at the doll, Hermione thought that maybe she would keep hold of it, and get Lily a new little doll of her own, something with red hair to match hers.

 

After crawling under the covers, Hermione grabbed her little Severus doll and clutched it to her bosom, pretending it was the real Severus, her lover, in her bed nestled between her breasts.

 

It didn't get much better than this for him. Well, it would have been better if he had actually shagged her, but right now, life was pretty good, all things considered. Severus was so drowsy he dropped off to sleep still clutched to Hermione. He did not remember to try and talk to her in her sleep, and place the suggestion in her mind that it was really him trapped in the form of a doll, and to release him from this spell as it had temporarily slipped his mind.

~o0o~

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

 

“Wha...?” Hermione groaned and rolled over, clutching Severus even closer to her chest.

 

“Hermione!” A voice called through the door. “It's me, Harry. Can I come in?”

 

Grumbling, Hermione set Severus down on the bed and rose to don her dressing gown.

 

_Bang! Bang!_ “Hermione?”

 

“Coming!” she growled irritably. “Coming.”

 

Severus heard the door open and the booted footsteps of Potter enter into her flat.

 

“Now what's all this about. Why are you here at seven in the morning on a Saturday? You know how rarely I sleep in,” Hermione reminded him.

 

“Sorry, but there’s a matter that Kingsley asked me to personally see to,” the Auror informed her.

 

“And?” Hermione shuffled off to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea since she was already up. “What has this got to do with me?”

 

“Well...” Harry trailed off, obviously trying to find some way to broach the subject. “It seems Mundungus Fletcher got cursed last night.”

 

Hermione slammed the teakettle on the stove, unable to lift her head and look Harry in the eye. “So?”

 

“He claims you're the one who cursed him.” There was a lingering uncomfortable silence, as Harry waited for Hermione to refute the charge. When she didn't answer, he soldiered on. “He wouldn't tell us why you cursed him, but it must have been something pretty awful for him to suffer your wrath.” Hermione still said nothing. “It's the talk of Auror Headquarters, what you did to him.”

 

Hermione groaned in exasperation and sunk down into a chair, her face in her hands. “Oh God!” she wailed pitifully.

 

Harry, thinking that something truly horrific happened to Hermione, said, “You can press charges if you want.”

 

“No! God, no. How is it that this even came to the attention of Auror Headquarters?” Hermione asked.

 

“Dung showed up at St. Mungo's looking to get a couple hexes reversed. Since he was in the Order, we wondered if a former Death Eater did this to him.” Hermione groaned once more, and slapped her forehead with her hand. “When we questioned him, he named you as the perpetrator.”

 

Hermione wasn't sure whether to laugh or find the nearest hole to crawl into, shrivel up and die.

 

“You wanna tell me what happened?” Harry asked, hoping his gentle tone would encourage her to confess. “I promise not to pass judgment.”

 

Hermione removed her hand from her face and looked up at Harry. “You really want to know?” He nodded. “You have to promise me that you will keep as much of this from public record as possible. ‘Cause I swear, if this gets out, I'll hunt that bastard down and kill him the Muggle way. I'll get my parents' dulled dental tools and make him wish he never did what he did.”

~o0o~o0O0o~o0o~  
Chapter Four: The Conundrum  
~o0o~o0O0o~o0o~

By the end of Hermione's recounting of her unfortunate experience, Harry was shaking his head in disgust over what could have happened between them.

 

“Hermione, you should not be picking up strange wizards in bars to take home and... and...”

 

“Fuck, Harry. The word is fuck, or have casual sex, if you prefer to be more genteel about it,” Hermione retorted bitterly.

 

“Well, in light of the circumstances, and that there wasn't a Death Eater involved, as your actions were based solely on his attempt to... erm...”

 

“Misrepresent himself? Deceive? Lie? Connive himself into my bed?” Hermione shuddered with revulsion at the thought.

 

“Yeah, exactly. Don't worry, this won't go any further than Kingsley and me.”

 

“ _Kingsley?!_ ” Hermione shrieked.

 

“I have to tell him. He's the only one with authority to dismiss the whole case. He was ready to prosecute whoever did this, thinking it was unprovoked. Don't worry, I'll be… _delicate_ about telling him certain facts,” Harry assured her. “But why, in God's name, did you go out to a bar to pick up on just some random wizard?”

 

“Because it's been almost a year since I've been laid, Harry, I was rather desperate,” she informed him blandly.

 

Harry winced at the awkwardness of the situation. Hermione was a rather reserved person when it came to certain matters that they discussed as friends. Her sex life was not a subject that was broached, except by Ginny, and Harry's wife never told him what they talked about in that area.

 

“Then why don't Ginny and I set you up with some–”

 

“Some nice wizard who is boring as hell, who either kisses like a snake or a slobbery mutt, and will never owl me later; though, I wouldn't want them to anyway, because that would mean I would have to tell them I'm not interested in them anyway,” Hermione rambled on.

 

“Kisses like a snake?”

 

“Yeah, that weird tongue flicking thing,” Hermione explained, scrunching up her nose.

 

_Hmm, I'll have to remember not to try that,_ Severus noted, listening in from the bedroom, thankful Hermione had a small flat.

 

“Well, there is the Ministry Halloween Ball coming up next weekend,” Harry mentioned casually.

 

This perked Hermione's interest, as she hoped that maybe Severus would show up at this one. Then she could approach him and try and strike up a conversation with him. Maybe if the mood wasn’t too hostile, she would invite him back to her place. It really was worth a shot compared to facing Harry and Ginny setting her up on another string of well-meaning dates.

 

“Can I help you find a date for it?” Harry offered.

 

“No,” she replied calmly. “There might be someone I know showing up.”

 

“Really?” Harry perked up at this news. “Someone I know?”

 

Well, there were many ways to interpret that question; Harry knew Severus, but he didn't really _know_ Severus, as they avoided each other as much as possible, even since before the war.

 

“Not really,” Hermione replied, hoping she seemed blasé about the whole matter.

 

Harry rose from the table and announced he had to go.

 

“No tea?” she asked her friend.

 

“Sorry, can't. I have this last minute case that came up. It seems that Madam Pomfrey has filed a missing person's report,” Harry told her. “Seems Snape was supposed to go to Hogwarts Thursday night with some potion for Minerva and he never showed up. She owled him and tried to reach him by Floo, but it seems he just disappeared. Said something about going to Knockturn Alley for some ingredients and hasn't been heard from since.”

 

Hermione's face fell at the news of Severus' disappearance. In order to disguise her disappointment, she asked, “Is Minerva all right?”

 

“No. It seems that she's come down with some rare condition where she's deteriorating rapidly, and Snape's potion was supposed to help reverse it. Personally, I think the bastard just off and left for parts unknown,” he added out of spite.

 

“Harry! I know you don't care for him, but I doubt, as a Potions master, he would just up and not finish a Potion he promised to deliver,” Hermione chastised him. “Especially for Minerva.”

 

“Yeah, whatever. Fact remains I have to spend today and maybe tomorrow snooping around Knockturn Alley trying to drag up the usual suspects and figure out who had a grudge against him. That's going to be a lot of work, as that would include anyone who ever took his class,” Harry said with a chuckle.

 

Hermione wanted to slap Harry, laughing over the fact that Severus could be held prisoner somewhere against his will, possibly tortured and in pain. A few days ago, she would not have been so concerned, but recently her thoughts had turned in a fond fashion towards her old professor.

 

In order to make Harry leave her flat quickly, so that she could deal with the upsetting news privately – without Harry's scornful commentary – she said, “I have things I must do too, come to think of it. So if you will excuse me, I need to get ready.”

 

She walked him to the door, not bothering with her usual friendly hug farewell. As she shut the door, Hermione felt her heart sink.

 

_Am I too late? Did something happen to him? God, I hope not,_ she silently prayed.

 

Despondent, Hermione flopped down on her bed and picked up her little Snape doll. “I hope you're all right.”

 

Severus, who had overheard Harry's report, said, _I could be better, but I could also be a lot worse. At least I'm here. Now if you only could release me from this spell. Can you hear me?_

 

Though none of the other spells worked, he tried Legilimency, as Hermione and he were making eye contact. There was a way that one could implant an idea into the mind of another using a slight alteration on the spell, it was not considered the same as the Imperio Curse, but required great skill. Severus had attempted to do it a few times before, during his days as a spy, but the recipients were not exactly receptive at the time. This time, Hermione's mind just might be open to suggestion.

 

_Crabbe cursed me in Knockturn Alley and turned me into a doll. It is I, Severus Snape, Transfigured into a doll, trapped in this form. Free me._

 

Hermione's eyes filled with tears as she sniffed and clutched him to her bosom. “Oh, please, please don't let anything happen to Severus,” Hermione sniffed.

 

Maybe Hermione's own highly emotional thoughts had clouded her mind and made it impossible for him to reach her. Still, it was touching that someone actually cared that he might be hurt. Severus didn't think anyone would mourn if he met with a terrible end. It was sweet that she seemed to care enough to shed a few tears for him.

 

_If I did die, would you really cry for me?_

 

“Of course I would cry for you,” Hermione said.

 

_Great, now she hears me,_ Severus grumbled to himself.

 

Lying there quietly, Hermione gently stroked Severus' yarn hair.

 

After a while, Severus asked, _What would you do if I were here right now?_

 

Hermione smiled sadly and began stroking her breasts with her hand.

 

_What would you do if you discovered that I was trapped inside a doll that you had on your bed next to you?_

 

“I'd play with myself for your pleasure, torture you while you watched helpless, unable to touch me,” Hermione said slyly and began stroking herself.

 

_It's really me. I'm stuck in this form of a doll! I was cursed, get me out of this now!_

 

Hermione did nothing but continue to touch herself, pretending that Snape was stuck in the form of a doll.

 

_No, really. It's me. Get me out!_

 

She smiled on, trailing her fingertips across her skin. The only reasoning Severus could come up with was that her inability to hear him now was a side effect of the curse or that he was trying too hard to reach into her mind when trying to get her to help him. Whatever the case, Hermione could not seem to grasp onto the idea that he really was stuck in the form of a doll.

 

Resigned to temporary defeat, Severus relaxed and enjoyed a second floor show put on for his benefit. He hoped that Potter was successful in finding out what happened, and that he could force a confession from Crabbe, thus informing Hermione, which would lead to his eventual freedom. It was a long series of events to happen just the right way, but he hoped he wouldn't have to wait too long.

 

Hermione sat up and placed Severus upright at the foot of the bed so he had a good view from between her legs. This was the angle he was hoping for last night. Since she seemed so open to his sexual suggestions before, he decided he would at least exercise what little control he had at the moment.

 

_Spread your legs wider._

 

Raking her nails along the inside of her thighs, she placed her hands upon her knees and pushed them wider, grinning at the spectator at the foot of her bed.

 

_Now, while you touch yourself, tell me what you would do if I were to approach you at this Ministry function. Imagine, you're standing there with a drink in your hand. Suddenly I appear from behind and ask you very quietly,_ “Don't you find these events a bore?” _What would you do?_

 

“I would agree wholeheartedly with you.” She began playing with the skin around her hip bone, toying with the nerve endings near her curls.

 

_And then?_

 

Hermione ran her fingers down between her legs; ghosting over the skin. “Ask you why you were there to begin with if you found them so boring.”

 

_And I would ask you why you came if you found them equally tedious._

 

“I would tell you I'm there waiting for a wizard like you to come along and rescue me from being bored to death,” she replied before slipping her finger between her folds.

 

_Spread yourself open for me to see,_ Severus ordered her.

 

Hermione used her index and middle fingers to part her lips, while her other hand reached down to play with her wetness, spreading it up to her clitoris.

 

Severus found it hard to carry on a conversation while watching Hermione masturbate, but he tried... valiantly. _I would recommend we leave the function and go someplace more private to continue this conversation,_ Severus murmured, trying to intone the seductive nature of his comment.

 

Hermione sighed and arched her back, imagining Severus pressed closely to her from behind, his erection nudging at her bottom through his trousers. “Like my place?”

 

_Exactly._

 

“We could Apparate to my flat here.”

 

_And I would kiss you as soon as we arrived._

 

At this suggestion, Hermione took her fingers, coated in her juices, and brought them to her mouth to taste herself. 

 

Severus groaned aloud at the sight of Hermione doing this and commanded, _Do that again._

 

Hermione opened her eyes to look at her Severus doll. Fixing her gaze on the buttons staring back at her, she lowered her hand between her legs and slowly dipped two fingers into her depth, biting her lip to stifle a moan. She withdrew them and dragged them back up her body, along her stomach, between the valley of her breasts finally to her mouth where she deliberately began to suck on them, imagining it was Severus' cock coated in her essence.

 

Once she removed her fingers, she said, “Would we even make it to the bedroom?”

 

_I doubt I could make it past the sofa,_ Severus admitted.

 

“I'd start working on all those buttons.”

 

_I wouldn't bother. I'd just spell away our clothes so I could devour you as soon as possible. God, but I want to feast on you, from your mouth to between your legs, all the way down to suckle on your toes._ Severus growled at the frustration of being unable to act on his maddening sexual desires. It was erotic beyond all measure to be forced to watch Hermione play with herself while he could do nothing, not even have the pleasure of stroking himself – though at the moment he was without his equipment.

 

Hermione went back to stroking her clitoris and playing with her nipples. “And I want to lick every square inch of your body.”

 

_I want you to imagine that your mouth is trailing down my stomach... down to my cock. Can you imagine it?_

 

Closing her eyes, she sighed, “yes.”

 

_Describe how you would take me into your mouth. Show me._

 

Using the hand that was at her breast, she began licking her middle finger, flicking her tongue over the tip, alternating with describing her fantasy. “You're sitting on the sofa. I'm kneeling on the floor in front of you, between your legs.” Severus began panting, easily envisioning the scene. “With one hand I grasp your cock and begin pumping my hand up and down its length. It's so hard and long. I wrap my mouth around the tip and begin to suck.” She placed her finger back in her mouth and started to suck greedily at it, drawing it deeper and deeper into her mouth.

 

Severus whimpered, the tightening in his lower belly growing, having no way to release the building tension. He just hoped he could orgasm like he did last night. It wasn't as satisfying as his usual experience, but it still provided him a great amount of pleasure and relief.

 

Licking and kissing her finger, Hermione mumbled around the digit, “I'd cup your sac, lick you up and down, take you into my mouth as deep as I could, pumping my hand up and down your beautiful cock.”

 

_And when I couldn't stand it any longer, I'd grab you by the waist, lift you up and firmly plant you down on my cock._

 

Hermione rose up from her reclining position to kneel with her legs spread apart. She braced one hand on the bed, and with the other positioned her fingers between her legs and impaled herself.

 

“Yes, that's it. Fuck me, Severus. Take me,” she wailed, her eyes shut tight, imagining Severus' strong hands on her hips guiding her up and down while she straddled him on the sofa.

 

He could feel another orgasm on the verge of cresting. _Yes, ride me faster,_ he encouraged her, enthralled with the sight of Hermione fucking herself like a witch possessed, her face twisted in pleasure and moaning with each thrust of her hips.

 

Hermione's back arched and she sank herself down on her fingers as far as she could go and climaxed. “Yes, oh God! Yes,” she cried. She wriggled her fingers and stroked her clit to prolong the orgasm before she finally collapsed.

 

Severus was breathless himself, having come at the same time as Hermione, pushed over the edge by the sight of her peaking.

 

She lay on her side, her hair a tangled mess partially obscuring her face, Severus could see a lazy smile grace her mouth. He wanted to kiss those plump lips and make her smile like that all day long. She looked so beautiful to him like this, rumpled in bed after an enjoyable bout of sex, cheeks rosy, hair mussed, body limp and relaxed, knowing he had a part in bringing her to this state. And she had brought him pleasure without even having touched him. Severus had finally discovered that he had a voyeuristic streak, and derived great pleasure from watching Hermione. He could swear that Hermione had an exhibitionist streak of her own that he was helping her uncover.

 

Once recuperated, Hermione grabbed her Severus plushie and cuddled under the covers for a few minutes before summoning her book by the sofa and conjuring a pot of hot tea and some buttered toast.

 

Upon smelling food for the first time since he had been turned into a doll, Severus felt hunger. There was a gnawing pain in his stomach demanding he eat some sustenance. It had been two days since he had last eaten and it seemed that only when presented with the proper stimulation did his body feel pain or the need for food, sleep, or sexual gratification.

 

Ignoring the twisting in where his stomach would have been, Severus hoped the sensation would abate once the smell of food was gone. He just prayed that he would not hear Hermione in the bathroom relieving herself, for he did not want to be stuck with the need to urinate with no means to complete the task.

 

As Hermione ate, she read. The way she had propped him up on the pillow next to her, he was able to read most of the book along with her. She was a messy eater, Severus noticed. Crumbs littered the bedclothes and she spilled tea on one corner, all easily rectified this with a few spells, but still. Severus would have placed a food repelling charm on the bed if she had a habit of eating in it.

 

The rest of the morning was spent in silence with both of them reading. Hermione lay back, mostly reclined, knees bent with the book propped up on her thighs. It was an interesting read, Severus decided; a historical perspective on wizarding Europe prior to the expansion of the Roman Empire, and the effects of Roman occupation and governing methods in uniting some of the more remote wizarding villages.

 

When lunch time rolled around, Hermione sighed and set her book down. After a good stretch, she said, “Oh God, I really should go into work on work on that puzzle box. I've been trying for a week and I still haven't solved it.” Why she said this aloud, she chalked up to merely wishing she had someone to talk to at times, and not for the fact that Severus was listening to her.

 

_Tell me about the puzzle box._ He really didn't want Hermione to go into work, leaving him alone with nothing but his thoughts and her suspicious familiar, who had taken to the habit of staying out of the bedroom since being shocked by defensive magic the other day. Not that Hermione had noticed the change in her pet's behavior… _yet._

 

She had been over it time and time again in her head all week, but maybe talking aloud to herself might help, since books and all her intelligence weren't working.

 

“Well, it's a puzzle box.”

 

_What type of puzzle box? Describe what it looks like,_ Severus prompted her.

 

Hermione closed her eyes and recalled as much detail as she could from memory. “It's a cube, five inches along each side. Made of hawthorn wood, inlaid with a labyrinth design made of silver. There is a different labyrinth or maze on each face.”

 

_Well, which is it; a labyrinth or a maze?_

 

“What do you mean?” she asked.

 

_Which is it? Is it a labyrinth or a maze?_

 

Now Hermione felt as if she was going mad, questioning herself. Figuring that she was dragging up some deep part of her consciousness that was recognizing the root of the problem, she tried to think aloud the difference between the two. “A labyrinth is intricately convoluted with only one clear path, while a maze is a puzzle giving the person several options of traveling along different paths, but there is only one true path to the center solution.”

 

_Right. Now which is it?_

 

Thinking back to the patterns, Hermione surmised that each was a puzzle. “It's a maze on each side.”

 

_And how would you think you could solve a puzzle box made with mazes?_

 

“Solve each of the mazes on each face,” she said, feeling a moment of clarity now that the obvious was staring her in the face. Hermione didn't know why she hadn't come to this conclusion earlier. It was so simple once she realised it. “Wait a minute. Being a puzzle box, it's going to require that each one be solved in a certain order. How will I be able to tell the order?” she asked herself.

 

_Is there anything different about each maze?_ Severus was beginning to enjoy this, trying to figure out a problem. It was certainly more entertaining than lying there trying to figure out how to get out of his predicament and trying not to worry about Minerva's health. He just wished he had the puzzle box here so that he could solve it with her and enjoy the moment of triumph when intellect won out against the cunning of the box's designer.

 

Each maze looked similar, except for the exterior shape, she remembered. “One face is in the shape of a circle... another one has the shape of a pentagon, a square, a triangle, a hexagon, octagon.”

 

_What is the most complex polygon shape?_

 

“Nonagon.”

 

_Would you say that the progression of complexity of shapes might be the key to the sequence in solving this puzzle box?_ Severus waited as the light in Hermione's eyes brightened upon the epiphany.

 

Hermione leapt up out of bed, hastily throwing on clothes.

 

_Wait, where are you going?_ Severus didn't mean for her to get up and leave him upon realisation of the solution.

 

He wanted to keep her there for as long as possible, not wanting to be alone. It was funny; Severus usually preferred solitude, but now stuck in his current form, he didn't want to be by himself. It was partly out of fear that he would be unable to defend himself if Hermione's grizzled cat came back to harass him again, but also he was becoming rather fond of her company, having been around her enough to acquired a taste for her presence.

 

In order to stop her on her journey out the door, he thought of the first thing that might make her rethink her attempt to solve the puzzle box.

 

_Wait! What if you solve the puzzle in the wrong order... backwards? What if you solve it in the order the box's creator predicted you might and reversed it? What sort of curse might be unleashed on you if you did it wrong?_

 

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks and slumped against the wall – realising she couldn’t exactly go off and suddenly try and open the box without studying it further. “Okay... what do I do now before getting myself a rather nasty case of boils in the most unpleasant places or worse?”

 

_Let's discuss the origins of the box; who made it? What is it that you and the goblins think lies inside of it? Who has owned it?_ Severus hoped she would continue supposedly talking to herself.

~o0o~

Two sandwiches, three pots of strong tea and half a bag of crisps later Hermione, with the assistance of the little voice in her head, had scrutinised more observations. Not only was the box of probably French origin from the fourteenth century, but the use of hawthorn wood was intentional for the purpose of concealment and protection against evil spirits.

 

Whatever was hiding in that box was not meant to fall into the hands of those with less than noble intentions. In addition, the use of silver was meant to keep those of questionable magic away, namely werewolves and possibly vampires. The only thing that remained unanswered what was lay hidden inside the box.

 

“The Goblins think that it's some great treasure, like a giant diamond or some other valuable jewel.”

 

_But why would a jewel be hidden in such a manner, unless the jewel was possessed or cursed itself? Or maybe it has some great magical quality that should remain hidden from the world. Pandora was cursed for her curiosity,_ Severus warned her. _At least get another curse breaker like Bill Weasley to assist you in this before attempting to do it alone,_ he requested, not wanting any harm to come to Hermione.

 

It was a reasonable idea, Hermione agreed with herself. Someone of Bill's caliber with curse breaking could make sure there were certain safeguards in place if this was a puzzle box that indeed should not be solved.

 

With the prospect of not having to think about her work for the rest of the weekend, Hermione decided to celebrate the probable solving of that damned box with a bottle of wine. She could have gone out, but after her experience with Dung, the reluctant witch was in no mood to risk another “situation.”

 

Severus really could have used a drink himself. He probably needed to eat and bathe as well, but as a doll, his basic needs were minimized to shelter and a warm bed.

 

Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the fact her mind was truly fixed on the fantasy of Severus stuck in the form of a doll. Whatever the reason, Hermione brought out Severus to the sofa in the living room to keep her company while she got incredibly drunk on good red wine.

 

Hermione was highly susceptible to suggestion whilst drunk. Severus was able to pry from her every sexual partner she had, and learned in the process that Ronald Weasley was fond of prostate massages, the Weasley twins had a habit of slipping aphrodisiacs into chocolates they give to witches and then tried to convince them that a three-way was a good idea – to which Hermione was able to summon a bezor before anything happened, Justin Finch-Fletchly was a lousy lay, Seamus Finnegan is bisexual, Roger Davies liked to be tied down and whipped with Licorice Wands, Terry Boot keened like a squeaky wheel during sex, Eddie Carmichael lasted as long as a Filibuster Firework in bed, Jack Sloper was hairier on his back than he was on his chest and had a thing for “facials” (which she found to be degrading), and Oliver Wood was pretty good in bed, but was boring as hell. Once the topic of her sexual history was exhausted, Severus figured she was drunk enough to really give him the honest truth.

 

_So what is your fascination with Severus Snape?_

 

“You mean why d'ju I wanna shag'im 'til I can't walk righ'?”

 

_Yes, exactly. Have you always thought of him as an object of your interest?_

 

“Hell no!” Hermione groaned with open disgust. “At firs' I thought tha'he was some mean, ugly git who would ha' been nicer if he just got the occashun'al shag. Then when I learned dat'he wuz'a Death Eater spy and then thought'he wuz some great tragic hero. After he killed Al'bush, I thought'he wuz'a disgusting, evil monster. After learning why'he killed Al...Al...the guy wiff da'long white beard–”

 

_Albus Dumbledore._ Severus was hoping for a little honesty, but this was a bit more frank than what he was counting on.

 

“Yeah, him.” Hermione began to list to the side, leaning towards Severus. “I felt kinda sorry fer'im. Havin' ta'do that? Then o'er the years, I just sort of... didn't think abou'im anymore.”

 

Hermione was now lying on her side, cuddling Severus up next to her face like a pillow. Severus wasn't being crushed, but it was rather snug being pinned under Hermione's cheek.

 

_But why the fascination with him now?_ He really did want to know why Hermione seemed to have taken such a keen interest in him.

 

“I dunno,” she mumbled. “Maybe I'd like'a wizard who'as more brains than a Flobberworm and he's certainly bright enough.” Hermione sighed and snuggled her face closer to her little Severus doll. “Besides... he's not that bad looking... all that dark, brooding mysteriousness'ness'sess... sexy voice. Makes me wonder if those vampire rumors are true, though I wouldn'd'min' being bitten on the neck from him.”

 

Hermione was fast asleep, snoring softly. Her breath was hot on his yarn covered head, and smelt distinctively of wine. At least it wasn't cheap wine, Severus conceded. With Hermione passed out, he was left with his thoughts, digesting all that Hermione had told him over his stay.

 

He had to admit to himself that before being brought to Hermione's flat, he would have never given her a second glance, feeling equally ambivalent about her over the years. Sure, she annoyed him while she was a student, but Hermione had grown up into a witch with whom he could actually enjoy spending some time with. While he didn't care to be trapped here in his current situation, Hermione's presence had made it much more bearable. There was a certain level of sexual gratification he hadn't experienced in quite a long time. Most of the time, it was a quick agreement in which he would pay for dinner, and get sexual favors in return. They would shag and part, possibly never to owl each other ever again. But it had been a while in which the conversation, company and sex were all equally agreeable.

 

Now that Hermione was asleep, Severus tried to talk to her.

 

_Hermione? Hermione._ There was no response. _Roll over, you're crushing me._ She wasn't, but he figured it was a good way to test to find out if she was listening. Still, she continued to breath heavily, occasionally snoring a little before smacking her lips and her breath evening out once more.

 

Severus would have preferred to be in her bed pressed comfortably against her breasts, occasionally being positioned against one of her nipples, but he would just have to suffer with the conditions for now.

~o0o~

_Get off of me,_ Severus gently commanded her.

 

Hermione woke up and wondered what troll broke into her flat and smashed her head with his club. She opened her eyes and decided that that was a very bad mistake. The glaring light streaming into her retinas made her wince, which resulted in her moving her head; that single action shattered her skull into a million tiny pieces.

 

“GROOOOOAAAAANNNNN!”

 

Just making noise was painful for her.

 

Severus had been awake for the past fifteen minutes and was stuck in the corner, folded most uncomfortably between her shoulder and the back of the sofa. He could not wait for her to wake up.

 

_Get me out of this cushion._

 

Unconsciously, Hermione obeyed, too hung over to think why she was being given orders by a doll. She then rose from the sofa and ambled to bed to sleep off the rest of her hangover, leaving Severus alone in the living room.

 

Sometime around lunch, Hermione emerged and shuffled off to the kitchen for some very strong tea, as that was the only thing her stomach could handle.

 

_I'll never drink that much red wine ever again,_ Hermione promised herself.

 

It was just her luck that she was out of Hangover Relief Potion and didn't have the fortitude to make it out to the apothecary to go buy some more. Going out into public in this state was more bother than to sit at home and suffer the consequences of over indulgence. She had heard that dishes like eggs and ham, and menudo, rich in B vitamins were a good hangover cure, but food was the last thing she wanted. Even a Bloody Mary, containing the hair of the dog that bit her, was beyond what she could stomach.

 

Deciding that rest was the best thing for her in order to recover enough to be a decent human being on Monday, Hermione began walking off to her bed to nap the rest of the day.

 

Halfway to the bedroom door, she suddenly remembered that she left her little Snape doll on the sofa. Trudging back, she picked it up and carried it with her to bed, snuggling deep within the light dampening bedclothes to sleep the day away.

 

Severus had given up hope that Hermione could hear him calling out to come fetch him. Sometime while she was in the kitchen, he resigned himself to a much skewed view of the hearth and the bookcases that flanked it. He could make sense of most of the titles, and some of them were on his “must read in my lifetime” list. Just when he heard her leave the kitchen, he thought about calling out for her to carry him back to bed with her, but didn't bother. To his surprise, she came back and picked him up anyway. Now nestled against a soft bare breast, he allowed himself the first afternoon nap he had in years.

~o0o~o0O0o~o0o~  
Chapter Five: The Cure  
~o0o~o0O0o~o0o~

Monday morning arrived with joy for Hermione. She felt thoroughly rested, even after suffering the hangover from hell the day before. Over the weekend, she got in some good reading and had two fabulous orgasms, in addition to coming to some new ideas for solving the puzzle box at work. After her morning ablutions and a hearty breakfast, she dressed and was ready to head out the door. Just as she was about to depart, she stopped and gazed at the little doll on her bed. In a spark of spontaneous girlishness, she leaned over and gave the doll a little kiss on the head.

 

“Thank you for a wonderful weekend.”

 

She bolted out the door, practically skipping.

 

Severus lay there and smiled to himself. _You're welcome, and thank you, too._

 

A few hours later, as the sun streamed in and warmed the bed in the autumn morning light, Severus felt an odd tingling sensation. It was almost like an icy jabbing sensation starting in the middle of his back. Praying it was not some after effect of the curse, Severus suddenly found himself sprawled out on Hermione's bed. All six feet of him.

 

The curse had ended naturally and Severus was his old self again. Well, not quite.

 

As Severus took his first real breath in days, his body demanded its due while it was in a form of semi-stasis. All at once whiskers sprouted from his face at an alarming and painful rate until it was equivalent to four days' growth. His stomach knotted and gnawed with a fierce, ravenous hunger and his bladder screamed for relief.

 

Leaping off the bed to run to the loo, Severus' legs failed him as they buckled from the weight, after four days of being unused. Bracing himself on various bits of furniture and the wall, Severus made it to the toilet and relieved himself. Crookshanks came to the open doorway and meowed at him loudly, letting the intruder know that he had overstayed his welcome and better leave swiftly. Once done with the most pressing bodily needs, Severus looked at himself at the mirror and recoiled. He looked haggard and rumpled, exacerbated with his beard growth.

 

Knowing he had some things to take care of immediately, Severus went to Hermione's fireplace and threw down some Floo powder.

 

“Hogwarts Infirmary,” he called out, his voice cracking. Severus found himself suddenly parched, in addition to famished.

 

Poppy's head suddenly appeared in the flames. “Severus?!”

 

“Yes, it's me.”

 

The school nurse looked at him with a look of shock and awe, taking in his appearance. “Where have you been? I called the Aurors to go looking for you and they said– ” 

 

Severus cut her off. “Long story, I'll explain later. Tell me. How is Minerva?” he asked urgently.

 

“Well, she's holding on; I stabilized her after you didn't come when you promised,” Poppy informed him.

 

“Just wait. I'm going to get the ingredients that I was going after when I was... I was delayed.” Severus wasn't sure what to tell Poppy of his experience, but figured that talk would come later when the crisis with Minerva's health was over. “I'll be there in three hours with the potion.”

 

Poppy nodded and the flames went out.

 

Severus grabbed another handful of Floo powder and called out, “The Poison Toadstool.”

~o0o~

Bill Weasley kept his wand ready as Hermione traced hers along the silver path on the circular maze. After consulting with Bill, and a little more research into the puzzle box, she was ready to attempt to solve it.

 

As her wand reached the center of the last maze to be solved, the silver inlay shimmered and began to glow white hot. Hermione backed up, her own wand ready.

 

The box opened with a burst of light and a green malevolent spirit sprang forth, rising higher and higher into the air. Goblins scurried away, ducking under desks or out of the curse breaking workroom.

 

Bill cast the spell and bound the spirit to a crystal receptacle he had ready and waiting, prepared after Hermione voiced her concerns over what might wait within the box. Once the spirit was trapped and it seemed safe, Bill and Hermione gazed at the interior of the box. Inside were the charred remains of a piece of parchment with ancient rune symbols. Later analysis of the runes would tell Hermione that it was a spell that bound the noxious spirit to the box until set free. At the bottom, there was a sentence written in Latin that roughly translated to: “Curiosity killed those who seek to know too much.”

 

There was no jewel inside as the Goblins hoped, and Hermione was immediately set to the task of solving another cursed item that would probably yield more fabulous hidden treasure.

 

While staring at the pewter chalice that seemed to contain a magical false bottom, Hermione's mind drifted back to her little Severus doll on her bed. She couldn't wait to tell the little doll about how she solved it and the spirit it contained.

 

_Pathetic. I'm resorting to socializing with an imaginary friend. I really do need to get myself a date. Maybe I'll meet some nice wizard at the ball, and we'll fall in love and have a couple of magical sprogs five or ten years later._

 

Hermione set her mind on the object in front of her, and pushed all thoughts of her Severus doll out of her mind until she was done with work.

~o0o~

As Severus and Poppy waited to see if Minerva would wake any time soon after taking the ancient elixir, the Potions master devoured everything the house-elves brought before him: lamb sandwiches, barley and vegetable soup, pumpkin pie with whipped cream, a flagon of pumpkin juice (which he never cared for, but quenched his thirst), chicken in a mushroom cream sauce, mashed potatoes ladled with gravy, glazed carrots, bread and poached salmon.

 

“Merlin, Severus! You're eating enough for four grown men!” Poppy remarked with astonishment, having never seen Severus eat more than a sensible portion of food at meals.

 

“Considering I haven't eaten since Thursday, I believe my body is making up for lost meals,” he replied around a mouthful of chicken, never enjoying the taste of food so much as he did at that moment.

 

Poppy gave him a quizzical look. “You mentioned something about being delayed? Come now, what really happened?”

 

Severus dabbed a napkin at his mouth before answering, “You know I told you that I was going to Knockturn Alley to that apothecary?” Madam Pomfrey nodded, looking rather grave. “I was ambushed.”

 

Over the course of the next half hour, Severus gave Poppy a much abbreviated summary of events, explaining that he had been found by some witch and had been taken back to her flat with the intent of bestowing him upon her niece. He did not mention who found him, or what transpired, but informed the school nurse about the curse ending and contacting her right away.

 

Poppy did like any medical professional would do in this instance and checked Severus over for any long term effects. Finally, after suggesting he have a bath and a shave, she declared that he was in perfect health.

 

Minerva stirred and let out a weak moan. Poppy and Severus were immediately by her bedside, looking over the fatigued Headmistress with concern.

 

“Don't worry,” Minerva croaked. “It's not my time yet, thanks to you, Severus.” She smiled at him warmly.

 

Severus stayed to discuss Minerva's condition for a while, and it was decided that the Headmistress would be put on a regimen of potions and watched for improvement. If she was no better after three days, then the Healers at St. Mungos would be called in to take over her care. Minerva wasn’t enthusiastic about the idea, but acquiesced after Poppy informed her that she would do no good for the school if she was too sick to even be conscious.

~o0o~

Apparating directly home, Severus sighed. It was good to be back in his own home. Yes, the place might be a bit on the dingy side and have none of the homely touches that Hermione's flat had, but it was _his._

 

After a long hot bath, a shave and half a bottle of brandy, Severus contemplated how to address the issue of young Crabbe and his accomplice. After a good night's sleep in his own bed, in which he purposefully did not think on how much nicer it would have been to have Hermione help warm it, Severus came up with an idea that was both (mostly) legal and satisfied his sense of justice.

~o0o~

With bags in hand, Hermione arrived home and announced, “I have Chinese take-away!”

 

She set the bags full of steaming food down on the kitchen table and trotted off to the bedroom to unwind by telling her Severus doll about her day. As she reached the doorway, she noticed it was not where she had left it that morning.

 

“CROOKSHANKS!” Hermione prayed that her familiar had done nothing to her precious doll.

 

The beast came up to his mistress and purred contently, now that he knew he would be Hermione's one and only interest within the walls of her flat. That nasty wizard-doll-thingy was gone.

 

“What have you done with him?” Hermione demanded.

 

Crookshanks merely turned around, twitching his tail in an insolent manner, as if to say, “If you can't figure it out, I'm not going to tell you.” He sauntered over to the kitchen door and waited for his mistress to present to him those little fried prawns he was so fond of.

 

Hermione looked high and low, eventually casting a Summoning Charm, but no doll appeared. During her search, she noticed someone had used her Floo powder recently and wondered if Harry came over looking for her. The only logical conclusion that she could come to was that Harry had been round, looked for her, found the doll on the bed and decided to take it. She could only imagine Harry cornering in hopes of nettling her, and asking what she was doing with a Snape doll on her bed, making thinly-veiled innuendos about sleeping with Snape, and being really desperate.

 

Feeling a little down that she had lost her little friend, Hermione picked at her dinner. Eventually, she gave Crookshanks the whole box of stir-fried prawns.

 

She crawled into bed and clutched at her pillow, but it wasn't the same. She already missed her Severus doll. Hermione made a mental note to swing by the toy store and see if they had any more dolls like that for sale.

~o0o~

Crabbe had initially been worried that somehow his old Head of House would show up suddenly and hex him into oblivion. As the weekend wore on, the probability that his old Potions professor would show up eased and he began to relax. Avery Sr. had momentarily panicked when they couldn't find the Transfigured traitor, but eventually surmised that Snape was probably trampled by the group of pub crawlers and someday his rotting, broken carcass might be found, or he might already have been rendered into rags by a trash picker by this point. Whatever the case, by the time Tuesday rolled around Crabbe and Avery Sr. decided to celebrate the death of the blood traitor Snape with a round of drinks at their favorite Knockturn watering hole.

 

Severus, concealed behind a cloak and a glamour charm, slipped into The Blue Raven and immediately spotted the wizard he was seeking. Crabbe was already drunk and had spent all his money on drinks. Everyone else was searching for a new friend to buy them a round, so Crabbe was not going to be particularly missed if he suddenly disappeared. The portly young man was sitting in a booth in the back nursing his latest pint of bitter.

 

“Mind if I join you?” Severus asked.

 

“Shove off. I already bought drinks for everyone else. You're too late, so tough titty,” Crabbe snarled with a slur, clutching his alcohol protectively.

 

“I thought I'd buy you a drink.”

 

Crabbe perked up at this news and suddenly welcomed the stranger to his table, who was already sitting down by this point.

 

“After all,” the concealed wizard said, “rumor has it, you're the one who killed Severus Snape.”

 

Crabbe beamed the stranger a broad smile and boasted, “Yep, that's me!” He raised his pint in a toast to himself. “The mighty slayer of traitors!” Some of his pint sloshed out of his glass and down his arm, soaking the cuff of his shirt, but Crabbe didn't seem to notice.

 

“And you did this all by yourself?” Severus asked with astonishment that exuded sincerity.

 

“Well,” Crabbe hemmed and hawed. “Actually, I was assisted by a fellow, erm, associate.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Avery Senior. But he was just back-up in case that dungeon bat decided to make trouble and wouldn't die peacefully,” Crabbe bragged.

 

_I should have known that Avery would not let the issue rest. He was classmates with the Dark Lord and still feels some sort of undying loyalty to him. We shall address that soon enough,_ Severus thought grimly.

 

“Is he here? I'd like to buy him a pint too,” Severus lied convincingly. 

 

Crabbe didn't seem to notice that no pint was brought over when the stranger sat down, nor did he notice when Severus slipped a Sleeping Potion into his drink either.

 

“Yeah... he's right over...” Crabbe slumped forward and knocked his glass over in the process, eliminating the proof that Severus had drugged him.

 

Severus slipped the Portkey into Crabbe's meaty palm and activated it to transport the wizard away. It was dark enough so that no one noticed the drunken wizard vanish.

 

With Crabbe gone, Severus set his sights on Avery Sr. Keeping his hood up and the glamour charm going, the cloaked figure meandered through the pub and approached the Dark wizard. Avery had his back to him, but that didn't stop Severus from having his wand ready to deflect any curses that might suddenly be thrown his way.

 

“Avery!” Severus said jovially, slapping the wizard on the back. “Good to see you!”

 

Before Avery could react, Severus activated the Portkey he had pressed between Avery's shoulders and both of them were transported into a cell in one of the lower levels of the Ministry.

 

As Severus gained his footing on the cold stone floor, the door flew open and Kingsley and a small team of Aurors filed into the room, wands drawn. Crabbe was in a corner, still out cold and Avery pulled his wand out, only to discover he was vastly outnumbered.

 

Severus walked over to Kingsley and handed him a small vial of Veritaserum. “This should encourage them to tell you everything you need to know.”

 

Kingsley nodded and said, “I'm glad to know that you're all right.”

 

Severus couldn't help but think that Hermione might be relieved to hear that news too. At least he hoped she would be.

 

“Oh,” Severus said before he left the room. “As we promised? Once you get your confessions, I get a chance to _'interrogate'_ them as well?”

 

Kingsley looked about and then discreetly nodded. “Just don't let anyone know. I'm doing this as a favor.”

 

“And a nice favor it is, Kinglsey,” Severus replied before going out into the hallway to wait.

 

As he sat on the government issued bench, he fondled the vials of different potions in his pocket he had brought with him. If the Ministry knew he had them, there might be an inquiry as to how and why they came to be in his possession and their legality, but he also had the antidotes, to wipe any trace of the substances from their systems.

~o0o~o0O0o~o0o~  
Chapter Six: The Connection  
~o0o~o0O0o~o0o~

There was a strong twinge of anticipation that made Hermione's stomach twist and turn. After putting her earrings on, she viewed herself in the mirror.

 

“I hope he's there,” she muttered to herself.

 

Earlier that day, Hermione had gone to the Luscious Locks Beauty Salon and had her hair done for the Ministry function that night. She wanted to look as beautiful as possible in case Severus Snape did show up.

 

Harry had informed her casually, over lunch during the week, that Snape resurfaced on Monday and that Kingsley was handling the case himself; something involving a couple Death Eaters with a grudge, an unnamed curse, and charges of attempted murder. Hermione pressed him for more answers, but that was all he knew. She hoped that Severus would be well enough to attend the Ministry function that Saturday. During the lunch, she dreaded Harry sliding into the topic of the Snape doll that he took, but he never made any mention of it.

 

Coiffed, dressed and ready, Hermione Apparated to the Ministry.

 

The atrium was packed with witches and wizards dressed in their finest robes for the Ministry's Annual Halloween Ball. Some people wore masks, others came in costume. Hermione did neither. Upon further thought, Hermione felt that perhaps Severus might be more interested in her if he first didn't see her face and recognize her as an old student. Maybe she could get him interested in some conversation and some kissing before removing her disguise.

 

Hermione conjured a bejeweled half-mask and affixed it to her face with a simple charm. With the mask on, Hermione felt a little more confident, feeling anonymous and therefore more adventuresome towards the evening ahead.

 

Strolling alone into the main ballroom, she surveyed the floor and suddenly realised that she might never spot Severus, as many wizards were dressed in black dress robes.

 

_Severus will blend right in,_ she grumbled to herself. _I'll never find him, if he's even here._

 

She went over to one of the floating trays and grabbed a flute of champagne to sip as she began patrolling the perimeter of the room where Severus would most likely be hiding himself away.

~o0o~

Normally Severus would have fobbed off the invitation to the ball, but this year he had a reason to attend. After forcing several different unpleasant potions down Crabbe's and Avery's gullets with amusing results _(well, amusing to Severus)_ , he owled his tailor for an appointment for a new set of dress robes in time for the event.

 

Severus tugged at the cuffs, making sure the proper amount of shirt cuff was showing past the edge of his robe's sleeve. At his tailor's insistence, Severus allowed himself to be talked into a dark plum shirt to go under his dark coat and robes. He was still dressed in black from his neck to his toes, but the small splash of reserved and muted colour at his throat was not too out of place for him. It was actually a nice change. A small change, but one that made the evening ahead seem portentously auspicious.

 

He Apparated to the atrium of the Ministry after most of the guests had already arrived. Severus knew Hermione was there, as she had told Potter she would be going. From the upper landing of the stairs that gave the Potions master a view of the floor, Severus studied the room, looking for a head of telltale curly chestnut hair. When he could not immediately spy her, Severus descended the steps and began intermingling among the dancing couples, hoping another wizard had not come along and snatched up Hermione, propositioning her for that quick shag she bemoaned she was in desperate need of.

~o0o~

Hermione was about to give up hope that Severus was even there. She had turned down a dance with some wizard who was a few years older than her that she barely remembered from Hogwarts. The wizard, Jason, had asked sweetly for her to join him on the floor for a spin, but she declined, having her heart set on finding Severus and seeing if there really could be anything between them. Or was it all just a fantasy that could never come to fruition?

 

Standing in a quiet corner where one of the many bars were set up, Hermione sipped at her third glass of champagne.

 

_Maybe I should just find Jason and see if he still wants a dance. I'm ready to forfeit brains and conversation skills for a good shag._

 

Just as Hermione downed the last of her champagne, someone walked up behind her. It was a wizard with a strong presence that radiated warmth and a masculine scent.

 

“Don't you find these events a bore?” Severus asked, keeping his voice low and silky. He wanted to run his hand along her curves he admired from behind.

 

Hermione didn't dare turn around, as she recognized the voice of the wizard standing behind her. The spine tingling sensation of déjà vu stole over her, as if she was reliving a dream. This was not dream, this was a fantasy come to life.

 

Wondering if her fantasy was merely her inner eye asserting itself or if she was merely a puppet of destiny, she replied, “Yes, I wholeheartedly agree.”

 

Severus stroked one finger along the length of her neck and was rewarded with a sigh and the arch of her neck into his touch. When Hermione did not continue on with the script, he stopped and withdrew his hand.

 

Suddenly remembering herself, and wondering if Snape was toying with her or if his intent was as sincere as she hoped, Hermione asked, “Why are you here to begin with if you find them so boring?”

 

He leaned forward, trapping her against the counter of the bar, pressing his body a little closer to hers. Whispering in her ear, he murmured, “Why did you come if you find them equally tedious?”

 

Hermione was struck dumb. Either Snape had used Legilimency on her without knowing it, was reading her mind, or... She didn't even want to contemplate what the last option was. It would be too mortifying and embarrassing. And was Snape there to taunt her if that was truly the case?

 

She turned to look Snape in the eye and found him gazing at her with an intensity that made a shiver run up her spine. “But how...?” The question died on her lips.

 

“I tried to tell you, but it seemed your mind was not open to the suggestion of the possibility,” he told her. Severus dragged one finger along the length of her cheek before drawing the pad of his finger along Hermione's lower lip.

 

“You mean– ”

 

He stopped her with a finger upon her lips. Severus smiled seductively and said, “I believe you are supposed to reply by saying you're waiting for a wizard like me to come along and rescue you from being bored to death.” 

 

Hermione's eyes widened upon realising that Severus had been there in her bed all weekend long. Horror was the first thing to fill her mind, followed quickly with the realisation that Snape not only watched her masturbate, but encouraged her. He had been a willing participant and, by the voice she'd heard in her mind, had enjoyed it greatly.

 

_Now what do I do?_ she asked herself.

 

There were many options: flee, for one. Slap Severus across the face for tricking her… but he had not tricked her. She had brought him back to her flat, into her bed, played with herself for her own (and his) amusement, and enjoyed it immensely. He did try to tell her, but it only seemed to be part of the fantasy she was having at the time. It seemed that the fantasy was more real than she ever could have imagined.

 

Severus brought her back to the present by leaning forward and bringing his mouth very close to hers, whispering, “I think at this point I am supposed to recommend that we leave the function and go someplace more private to continue this conversation.” He brushed his lips against her, but not enough to even consider it a kiss.

 

Severus stood up and watched to gauge her reaction now that the ball was in her court and they were at the crossroads of this scenario.

 

_Well, he's interested. He's willing, and so am I at this point,_ she noted, feeling a growing heat bloom in her lower abdomen. _He's seen me naked before, and more. Why not?_

 

Hermione smiled up at Severus and placed the flat of her palm on his chest, letting him know she was willing to take this further. “Like my place?”

 

“Exactly.” He smiled and leaned forward, capturing Hermione's mouth in a kiss. After wishing he could taste her mouth for the past week, it was even sweeter than he imagined. She tasted of the champagne she had been drinking mixed with her own delicious cocktail he wanted to devour.

 

Her hands immediately wound their way up to his shoulders and around his neck. Severus pulled Hermione's mask off and kissed her even more ravenously. They ignored the stares they were getting from the other people standing by the bar, stunned that Severus Snape was not only being social and actually chatting up a witch, but kissing one.

 

They pulled apart, both breathless and a little lightheaded from the kiss, and with the knowledge of what lay in store for them ahead.

 

“We could Apparate to my flat,” Hermione suggested, a slight blush creeping upon her cheeks with the realisation that this was really going to happen.

 

The scripted talk was over. According to Hermione's fantasy, it was time for action.

 

“Then let's go,” Severus agreed, eager to disrobe Hermione and do many, many things he had fantasized about during the week.

 

Instead of walking around the perimeter of the ballroom, they made haste by cutting through the middle of the dance floor for the most direct route out. Severus led the way with Hermione, moving as fast as she could in heels, trying to keep up with his long strides. To the casual observer, it looked like Snape was dragging her across the floor in haste, his face set with firm determination.

 

It was when Harry and Ginny spotted their friend being pulled along like a recalcitrant child by none other than Snape did they stop dancing. The pair brushed past the Potters and Harry decided to take action.

 

Jumping to the conclusion that the greasy git was abducting Hermione, Harry drew his wand and shouted, “Unhand her, Snape!”

 

Several other couples near them stopped dancing in order to watch the spectacle unfold with fascination, hoping to see the great Harry Potter in action.

 

Hermione ignored Harry and continued on her trek to the atrium. She was stopped short; her amorous interest was rooted to the spot staring at the end of Harry's wand, itching to get his own wand out with the hand not holding hers.

 

She sighed with exasperation, “Harry! Leave him be.”

 

Harry stood there, gobsmacked as Hermione yanked at Snape's hand, urging him to keep going. It finally struck the younger wizard that Hermione was not being whisked away against her will by the old bat, but was equally interested in going someplace with him.

 

Hermione gave her friend a half-apologetic shrug and sheepish smile that quickly morphed into a sly grin when she caught Ginny's knowing look.

 

Severus gave Potter his best smug look before tightening his grip on Hermione's hand, and they both bolted off, running side by side. Hermione started to laugh as she heard Ginny shout at her back, over the band, “Floo me! I want details!”

 

They both knew that they would be the topic of talk for the rest of the ball, and probably most of next week, but they didn't care. Once in the atrium, they Apparated together to Hermione's flat.

~o0o~

In the dim quiet of a flat, man and woman stood facing each other.

 

“So,” Hermione started, feeling a bit awkward and wanting to get a few things cleared before the rest of the evening commenced. “A couple of Death Eaters cursed you and turned you into a doll?” It sounded absurd, but in the world of magic far stranger things had happened.

 

Severus advanced on her and deftly swept her into his arms. “In a word? Yes; though their original intention was to cast a very painful and fatal burning curse.”

 

Hermione did not even wish to entertain such an idea. She buried her face into his chest, grateful the curse had failed. “Thank God, you're safe,” she sighed with relief.

 

“Thanks to Crabbe's incompetence, the curse was not cast correctly. The end result was me trapped fully cognisant in the form of a stuffed toy.” She clutched onto him tighter. “Fortunately, I was rescued from a rather grim fate or long cold stay out in the elements from a kindly witch.”

 

Laughter bubbled up from her chest. “And I originally planned on giving you to Harry's daughter, Lily.”

 

“Yes, a most unpleasant fate, but one still preferable to a charred death or a pair of scissors and a seam ripper,” he conceded.

 

She winced and shuddered at the thought, and regretted all those “haircuts” she gave her dolls as a child.

 

“Still, my imprisonment was made much more humane by my company and treatment.” Severus tipped her face up and kissed her gently.

 

Kissing him back, Hermione let all her passion flow forth, the intensity of moment mounting until they were both panting and grabbing at each other's clothing, blindly searching for zippers and buttons.

 

In the heat of the moment, Hermione reached for her wand to spell their clothes away, but Severus stilled her hand. Shaking his head back and forth, he whispered, “Slowly.”

 

His long and graceful hands skated over her shoulders to rest on the straps of her gown. Slowly slipping them off, he drew them down her arms in one graceful movement. Hermione's dress slipped down, catching on her hips. Severus' fingers found the zipper and slid it down at an agonizing pace. The fabric finally slid past her hips to pool at her feet, finally revealing her to be wearing nothing more than her lacy black knickers, stockings, and heels underneath.

 

Taking a step back to admire her, as a full grown adult this time, Severus hummed with appreciation of the vision before him.

 

“Come here,” he growled playfully, and began to ravish Hermione.

 

The feeling of his woolen clothing against her bare skin was delicious. She was practically nude and he was still fully clothed – just like when she had masturbated in front of him.

 

He bent over and nibbled on her neck, traversing the length of her body until he was kneeling in front of her; laving her navel with his tongue, her hands fisted in his hair. Severus discovered that her breasts did indeed fit perfectly in his hands.

 

Shivering with anticipation of what was to come, Hermione hooked her thumbs under the elastic of her knickers and began to lower them. Still kneeling in front of her, Severus helped her to finish removing them and began trailing his tongue lower until he reached her dark curls. He inhaled, loving the scent of her arousal she gave off. While one hand caressed her hip, the other hand slipped between her legs and started exploring her as Severus' tongue slid deeper along her cleft until he found her clitoris. In synchronicity, his fingers slid in and out of her as his tongue lapped at her greedily.

 

Hermione's knees were on the verge of buckling, tested by her resolve not to collapse on the floor. No one had ever pleasured her this way while she stood and she found the power of Severus kneeling before her an aphrodisiac. Her hands stroked and played with his hair as she moaned deliriously, encouraging him on.

 

Just as her legs were about to give out, Severus began kissing his way back up her stomach. She groaned at the loss of stimulus so close to orgasm.

 

“Don't stop,” Hermione pleaded with a whinge.

 

He smirked and replied, “We have all weekend.”

 

Hermione's heart leapt at this, now knowing that this was not going to be a quick shag, but something a little more satisfying, and not just physically.

 

Severus rose and led Hermione to the sofa. He sat down, his knees slightly apart and spread his arms across the back of the sofa. With a smoldering looked he said, “I believe you said something about being on your knees while I sat here?”

 

She knew exactly what he was referring to and was more than happy to comply. Lowering herself, she pushed his knees apart into order to kneel between his legs. Hermione placed her hands on his knees and raked her nails up his thighs, the fabric of his trousers rubbing against his skin. Severus let out a hiss of enjoyment as she reached his hips.

 

This time she used her wand and removed his trousers and any men's furnishings he might be sporting, but leaving his robes, coat and shirt on to unbutton at her leisure. She was greeted by the sight of Severus' erect cock demanding attention. In order to prolong the pleasure, Hermione gently raked her nails up the inside of his thighs again, this time against bare skin. Severus threw his head back and let a long, low groan escape his lips.

 

While his head was still thrown back, Hermione grabbed his length and quickly took him into her mouth until the head of his cock was pressing firmly against the back of her throat. One hand grasped him at the base of his shaft and began pumping up and down as one hand began to try and undo the long row of buttons down his front.

 

Severus helped, and began unbuttoning his coat and shirt, freeing Hermione's hand to stroke his sac. He opened his eyes to see Hermione looking up at him through her lashes, her mouth opened in a wide “O” as her head bobbed up and down, taking him most of the way into her mouth. Occasionally she would take just the head into her mouth, running the tip of her tongue between his glans and the foreskin, which was an incredibly intense feeling that tested his promise not to come in her mouth... yet. 

 

Sitting up, he urged Hermione to stand and then come forward onto the sofa and straddle him.

 

Hermione couldn't wait to impale herself on him. The longer she feasted on his cock, the more she wanted to be riding him, feeling his length stroke the inside of her until she came. The throbbing between her legs had reached a pinnacle and if she didn't shag him soon, she felt she would surely go mad. Once set across his lap, she rubbed her breasts in his face, letting him suckle and devour her like some gluttonous boy with a bag of sweets.

 

Grabbing him to guide him, she swiveled her hips to rub himself around her opening, coating his tip in her wetness to ensure a swift and pleasurable penetration. Finally Severus could stand it no longer. He planted his feet firmly on the floor and grabbed Hermione's hip. He thrust up from underneath while slamming Hermione down onto his lap. Her back arched and she let out a cry, feeling as if she had been filled to the extreme to which her body would allow.

 

She raised herself up and let Severus guide her roughly back down, the back of her thighs slapping soundly against the tops of his. Severus growled and began thrusting quickly from underneath. Nails raked violently down his chest, marking him with reddish welts and he hissed from the pain that bordered on pleasure. He grabbed her hair and pulled roughly on it, making her present her neck to him. He leaned forward and bit the side of it as Hermione wrapped her arms around his head, holding him fast. Her hips rocked back and forth and her thighs burned with the exertion of raising and lowering herself onto his cock.

 

Wanting a change of pace, Severus removed himself from the sofa and slid behind her. Grabbing his cock, he teased her opening before she arched her back in invitation. He slid in and began to fuck her from behind. Hermione braced her arms on the sofa and leaned forward to allow the deepest penetration possible while Severus drove himself into her with a savage ferocity.

 

“Oh God, Severus. Yes, deeper!” she wailed, feeling as if she could not get enough of this man pounding her from behind. She clawed at the upholstery in desperation. Severus grabbed her hips firmly and she placed her hands on top of them, encouraging him to hold her even tighter until his fingers were biting into the flesh and would surely leave bruises.

 

He began ramming her from behind, encouraged by her stream of non-stop screams and moans, begging him with pleas to “Fuck me!”

 

The sensation of Severus thrusting into her was intensified when he reached forward and grabbed her nipples and tugged on them roughly, pinching them between his fingers. That was the stimulus that sent Hermione over the edge. She tucked her chin to her chest and came with a throaty yell while Severus continued to pound her with abandon.

 

Feeling her muscles quiver and tighten around him, Severus let himself climax. His cock pulsed with each spurt, which was intensified when Hermione arched her back once more and rotated her hips in a succession of small circles as he came, allowing his cock to rub around her walls in a way that made his head spin.

 

Gasping for breath, Severus and Hermione both fell forward, collapsing onto the sofa, knees aching from the hard floor. They could feel the layer of sweat of the other as Severus pressed his chest against her back. He kissed her shoulder and back, his heart still pounding away in his chest, and Hermione intertwined her fingers in his and squeezed.

 

“To the bed?” she panted, still trying to catch her breath.

 

“Shower then bed?” Severus preferred to clean up a little bit before going to sleep, not wanting to wake up sticky.

 

Under the spray of hot water, Severus was barely able to keep his eyes open. Hermione was equally drowsy, feeling pleasantly exhausted.

 

Freshly washed and knackered, Severus snuggled down into the bed, nestling his nose between Hermione's breasts, having found that to be quite a pleasant way to drift off to sleep. She found the feeling of his face pressed to her bosom as soothing as when she clutched him as a doll. Hermione and Severus slept with the peace that comes when one is content, and is exactly where they want to be.

 

~FIN~

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: A round of thanks to Error-4017 for her beta work.
> 
> To view my Snape doll that was the inspiration for this fic, please view this post on my Tumblr account: http://atdlhea-betz.tumblr.com/post/136722745970/a-new-complete-fanfic-in-plushies-we-trust


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